Year of Writing 192. The Graveyarden.

7/11/12

Isla asked me to go to the graveyarden (her word) today - it's a small cemetery in Ojai that I once spent the night at on a dare when I was 13.  I was going to bring her some paper and crayons for gravestone rubbings, but I heard that practice is outlawed because it's too weird, and people hate crayons.  Instead, I gave my little goth girl a camera and told her to take pictures of whatever she wanted.  That actually turned out really interesting, and I will post the photos below.  The trip itself kinda sucked, since it was 100 degrees today, I had to wear a hot ass baby on my chest, and Isla made me read the name of EVERY SINGLE gravestone in the cemetery.  After awhile, I just started making up names that sounded cool to me, I'm not gonna lie. 

 

This first one is just for authenticity.  Note Isla's appropriate graveyard apparel. She especially wanted to know if the people buried there were husband and wife, or if there were any kids.  

 She chose interesting angles for her photos.  I like the way she's looking down on this weird sculpture of a boy half buried in the oak leaves. 

I love this gravestone.  This is how I want mine to look, minus the Civil War Confed. and plus a unicorn.

 Rad.

 This photo of a dead rose scares me a little.  I think Isla might be full blown goth.

 I find it a little disturbing that people put old muppets on their loved ones' grave.

 Speaking of disturbing.

 There are so many cobwebs and cobweb suspended oak leaves here it's hard to make out the picture in its little picture hut.  I really like this gravestone too.

 Fake birds.

And real birds.